Je T'aime Mon Mathieu
by Madame Xela
Summary: Because i haven't posted anything in a while, just something EXTREMELY fluffy. Yeah....


**Hi guys, sorry I've been away for so long! =] But I was placed in the front seat of the emotional roller coaster we call life. So I've been tired and sick for a while, and I just haven't been up to writing recently. But I'm getting back into the swing of things. I hope you enjoy this cute little one-shot. Before I start, I'm just going to say that for the purpose of this fic, all of the nations are going to live on a little archipelago that is unreachable to humans (I don't know if anybody used this yet, but oh well.) that have little docks to get to their country.**

**Summary: **France is acting weird, no one knows why. Well, except for one person. Crappy summary, sorry.

**Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN AXIS POWERS HETALIA!!!! If I did though, well…….I think it's safe to say that it would have a lot of yaoi. **

**Warnings:** Yaoi, implied sexual situations, M-preg, mild swearing, ooc, fluff, use of human names

**Main Pairing: **France x Canada

**Words: 1916**

**Author: Xela**

**Beta: Yaoi-Yurifangirl (my love!!!)**

**Enjoy!!!**

None of the Nations were sure when it started. Maybe it was a year ago, maybe a month, but however long ago it started, one thing was for sure: Somebody had kidnapped France and replaced him with someone _normal._ He just wasn't being _France_. _France_ would go around flirting with everything that walks on two legs and breathes. _France_ would **always **have a bottle of fine wine somewhere his person, along with other…..**items**. _France _would run around naked with that damned rose covering his vital regions. _That France_ was an inappropriate and inconsiderate bastard.

But _this France_ was the polar opposite. Oh he still carried around his roses, and had a drink of wine with his lunch and dinner, but they were small; half a glass at the very most. The New France was polite to everyone. He would try to have civil conversations with England, he would compliment everyone, offer to help anyone with a problem. New France wouldn't dare try flirting with anyone, and all of the Nations couldn't fathom why. Lastly, New France always kept his clothes on. So all in all, New France was creepy.

The first time the Nations noticed the changes, it was when a _very_ drunk England came in to a UN meeting in his 'waiter' outfit. The bushy browed nation staggered in with half lidded eyes mumbling something about not being satisfied. Many sitting at the table expected France to jump up and offer to 'satisfy' him, but it never happened. France only nodded in his direction and looked back down at something in his lap. When asked if he was sick or something, Françis simply smiled and replied: _'Oui, I have never been better in my entire life.'_ And that was the end of the conversation. When it was brought up again a few days later when he didn't seem to be getting any normal-er, Françis simply said he was happy. America and England were confused as to what could make _France_ act like…like a proper gentleman. So naturally, they went to France's best friends Spain and Prussia.

'_I'm too awesome to tell you, not like it's any of your un-awesome business anyways.'_ Prussia had told them with a smirk that said he knew exactly what was going on.

'_Françis found something that makes him happy, so I'm happy. You should be too. Now, have you seen my precious Lovi~?' _Spain's response wasn't helpful either.

Determined to get to the bottom of this, America and England followed the blond Frenchman after he left from one of their social visits. They hid behind a potted bush, keeping six steps behind Françis as he strolled down a crowded market street in Paris. Françis pulled his hair back into a low ponytail after he had left. He wore a pair of white jeans (held up by a dark leather belt) that clung onto his ass and thighs in a way that would have almost any man or woman drooling over him. His shirt was a deep, royal blue made of silk partially covered by his black vest. A phone rang, playing a romantic little tune that neither of the spying nations could place a name to, yet they knew it came from France's phone.

"_Bonjour mon cher_~! _Oui_, don't worry, I'll be back soon. Oh? _Oui_, they were well. We did not fight like I promised you. I just have to stop at the store real fast and I will be back. _Je t'aime_; _a tout à l'heure._" Françis hung up the phone and placed it back into his pockets. Then he turned a corner and went into a little flower shop. England and America waited outside for maybe ten minutes for Françis to come back out. He was carrying a bouquet of red roses in his arms. He called a cab and took off to his private dock, America and England doing the same.

"Where's ol' Frenchie goin' Iggy?" Alfred asked as he adjusted the plant on his lap.

"I don't know! And get that plant off of me you twat!" Arthur snapped. He tried to push the bush away, but a branch ended up smacking him in the eye. "Ow! Bloody hell! Stupid pile of twigs!!!!" Alfred laughed at his former mentor's pain. "Shut up you git!" The two got into a small argument that lasted the entire rest of the way.

"Ahem." The two nations looked at the cab driver who was holding out his hand expectantly. Oh, right, money.

"Well Iggy, since you're the responsible one, I'll leave this to you." Alfred said as he slipped out of the car with the bush to look out for their French victim-er-friend. After some grumbling, he was joined by an agitated Arthur. Françis wasn't on his boat yet, he was by a lamp post talking on his phone again. It was perfect; Françis' boat wasn't huge, but it was big enough that Alfred and Arthur could hide away (without the bush) and not be seen by Françis. The two climbed on the boat, snuck downstairs, and hid in closet in the second bedroom.

"What makes you think he's even going to come in here you twat?" Arthur asked when he was poked in the back by a coat hanger. Oh how he wished he could be laying down on that bed. Alfred could stay in the closet for all he cared; he was the one who dragged Arthur on this stupid mission. Honestly, why would Arthur care if the frog stopped being perverted? That was a _good_ thing.

"I don't know, but it wouldn't be good if the hero was caught following people for no reason!" Alfred yelled. Texas slipped down the bridge of his nose, and just when he was going to push it back up, the engine roared to life and the boat lurched. "Might as well get comfortable Iggy, it's going to be a while to get to the islands." The two were silent for the rest of the boat ride.

When the boat stopped, Alfred and Arthur waited for a few minutes until they were sure that Françis was far enough away that they could sneak off of the boat without being seen. To be honest, Arthur was expecting to see the Frenchman's renaissance style chateau on top of the bridge/cliff that Arthur has been up and close to on more than one occasion. The last he saw, Ivy had run all the way up the walls from the little lake at the bottom of the cliff/bridge.

Instead, they were in a thin river, which he had assumed led to a pond, in front of a snow covered mountain. The sun was setting and in the light of the setting sun, the two blonds saw Françis walking to a cute little log cabin about a quarter of a mile away from the mountain's base. Of course up close, it was not a tiny little log cabin at all. It was HUGE! It could have easily have been three floors without including a basement. The owners of the house obviously had nothing to hide because on every floor, there was a four by eight foot windows spaced apart by two feet between each window. In between each window was a wooden pillar that reached from the wrap-around porch to the roof. Each seemed to have very intricate designed from the top to the bottom. The best part of the house, in Alfred's opinion, was the giant window in the very center of the house. It was four windows thick and went up all the way to the ceiling of the top floor and coming to a point just before it met the ceiling's height. Something about this house was familiar, but they could not for the life of them like of why.

If they had been paying any less attention to Françis, they wouldn't have seen him go up one of the small sets of stairs on the porch and go into the house. Arthur and Alfred followed him from outside. They saw him walk through the first floor hiding the flowers behind his back. Françis stopped at an archway into another room. He just stood there, leaning against the frame watching something. Walking to the next few windows, they got to see what Françis was looking at.

The archway had led to a beautiful gourmet kitchen that was obviously the jewel of the home. In the middle of the kitchen on the far wall was a large stove, and in front of that stove was someone cooking something that smelled rather good from outside. It was a very pretty woman. Well, she was at an angle, so they could not see her fully, but even at an angle there was no doubt that she was lovely. She was tall and slim; her hair seemed to be made of sunlight and was pulled up at the top of her head. Her skin was beautifully pale. She was wearing a pair of deep blue jeans and a brown and cyan sweater with a cute pair of glasses at the bridge of her nose. The girl was _glowing_ from both the sun's rays and the stray dust particles drifting around her.

When she finally noticed Françis lurking in the doorway, she turned and gave him a million watt smile. Finally Arthur and Alfred got a good look at the front of her. They examined her more than they could before, and to say they were shocked was an understatement. First off, she was not a she, she was a _he_, a _pregnant _he at that! They could see why they had mistaken the poor lad as a female though, his face was heart shaped and had a soft slightly feminine look about it. Secondly, he had a modest but gorgeous diamond ring on the ring finger of his left hand. Lastly, was a strange wayward curl on his forehead that kept bouncing in front of deep violet eyes. Didn't they know someone with a curl like that? Was this why Françis had been acting so strange lately?

The man walked over to Françis, slipping his arms around the elder's shoulders, and planted a sweet kiss on his lips. "You're home." It was hard to hear the lad speak; they had to press their ears to the glass and concentrated to hear the quiet voice.

"_Oui, mon cher,_ I told you I would be home soon. Did you not believe me?" Françis asked. One of his hands was playing with the other's blond hair with the other was gently rubbing the swollen belly. The lad gave a pleased smile and leaned into the touch.

"_Non, _that's not it. You know I trust you. It's just our little one has been active today and I think she will be coming any day now. I was just worried that you wouldn't be here."

"_Mathieu, mon amour, _I will **always** be here for you. _Je t'aime, mon Mathieu._" It was strange hearing he loved this Matthew lad-WAIT MATTH-

"_Je t'aime aussi Françis."_ Oh. Dear. Lord. How had they not have noticed before?! The gorgeous man-lady was their beloved Matthew Williams! That's why the house seemed so familiar! That's why-loathed they were to admit it- they did not recognize Matthew at first!

Arthur was about to say something to the American Nation, but said man was already up screaming at the top of his lungs: "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY BROTHER YOU PERVERTED FROG-BASTARD!!!!"

**A/N: yeah……………this was a bitch. I wrote the end differently, but my computer decided it didn't like it. It shut down in the middle of the night, and when I turned it on in the morning, the entire end was GONE! Because I am a fucking moron and didn't save it!!!!!**

**Okay….I think I'm done now. **

**Have you all been suffocated by fluff yet? **

**Bonjour mon cher: Hello my dear**

**t'aime****; ****a tout à l'heure: I love you; I'll see you soon**

**Mon Amour: My love**

**Je t'aime aussi: I love you also**


End file.
